


Close and Closer Still

by somanyopentabs



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyopentabs/pseuds/somanyopentabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bruce mentally catalogues Clint's sartorial choices, and Clint's mind is not always in the gutter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close and Closer Still

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Avengers Kissing Meme on LJ.

It had been oddly quiet in the Avenger’s mansion as Bruce had just minutes ago let himself into the kitchen and rifled through the cupboards looking for the last of the madeleines. He’d found them just as Clint appeared, deftly plucking the cookies from Bruce’s hand before crowding him up against the kitchen counter, hooking his fingers in Bruce’s belt loops and simultaneously tugging the two of them closer together while gently pushing Bruce backwards until the counter edge pressed against his spine.

“Well, hello to you, too,” Bruce said as Clint nuzzled his cheek and let his hands drift lower to grip possessively at Bruce’s thighs.

Bruce suddenly found himself being hefted up onto the kitchen counter as Clint kissed the breath right out of him.

“Hi,” Clint answered as he pulled away an inch or so, still standing between Bruce’s spread legs, Bruce’s bare feet dangling off the countertop.

“I thought we were keeping this, uh,” Bruce paused as he stumbled over the correct phrasing for whatever they were doing, and then decided to forego labeling completely. “I thought we were keeping this quiet.”

“No one else is here.” Clint leaned in to peck him briefly on the lips, just a tease of a kiss. “Just us.”

Clint’s hands were wrapping themselves around Bruce’s waist easily, stealthily almost. Like they belonged there. Clint placed a kiss on Bruce’s chin, and then another right below his earlobe.

“Are you sure?” Bruce asked, leaning into the warmth of Clint’s solid chest despite himself. Clint’s band t-shirt was soft, the material thin and worn; it was one of the few belongings he’d had when he’d first moved in. Bruce remembered asking him about it; Clint had owned it for years, a gift from Natasha after the two spies had successfully infiltrated the crime circle that had been using the band for a cover. Bruce could appreciate that type of dark humor. Steve would be appalled at keeping that kind of memento.

Clint caressed Bruce lightly through his dress shirt; Clint’s touches were never anything less than thoughtful with Bruce. Bruce’s shirt itself was new, of course. He couldn’t imagine keeping the same article of clothing for weeks, let alone years. They all went by the wayside, in the end, torn to pieces and scattered in ruins.  


Bruce indulged himself by slipping his hands under the fabric of Clint’s shirt; he could live vicariously through Clint’s wardrobe, at least.

Clint’s hands moved up to cup Bruce’s face, and he stole another kiss from Bruce’s lips before answering, “Yup.”

“Oh, they went to that charity thing,” Bruce remembered. Buried in his work earlier, he’d forgotten all about it. He flushed a little, realizing he was playing up the absent-minded professor stereotype to a tee. “Wait, how did you get out of it?”

Clint smirked, tracing the line of Bruce’s lower lip with a steady finger as he replied, “Made a deal. Natasha offered to cover for me as long as she gets to sit the next one out.”

“Ah.” Bruce relaxed a little as Clint’s wandering fingers made their way to skirt along the shell of Bruce’s ear.

“So you’ll be coming with me to that one, of course,” Clint said, capturing Bruce’s lips with his own before Bruce could respond. That kiss was deep and wet, and left Bruce panting and fisting his hands in Clint’s shirt as they finally pulled apart.

“I can’t,” Bruce protested, breathing heavily.

“Sure you can. I won’t have any fun without you.” Clint’s blue eyes were sparkling with promise.

“I get the feeling that your definition of fun varies greatly from mine. Besides, what if I—“

Clint cut him off with an adamant shake of his head. “No more excuses. I’ve heard it all before, Bruce. Believe me, you’ll be fine.”

Bruce frowned. Clint sighed, and backed away for a moment, and Bruce just barely kept from embarrassing himself by reaching out and trying to pull him back in. Bruce needn’t have worried; Clint was back in an instant with a kitchen chair. He set it on the floor, sat down, and then pulled Bruce into his lap.

Bruce flailed a bit before settling comfortably and straddling Clint’s thighs. “Bruce,” Clint said into his ear. “Stop thinking about everything that can go wrong tomorrow, and enjoy right now. We’ve got a billion dollar mansion all to ourselves. I’ve got an incredibly sexy man on top of me. I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling pretty damn optimistic.”

“Yeah?” Bruce let his hands roam upwards until he had them hooked around Clint’s neck and pulled him forward so their foreheads touched.

“Mm hmm,” Clint agreed, rubbing their noses together affectionately. He had also reached back and secured a palm full of Bruce’s ass in each of his hands. Bruce wouldn’t put it past Clint for that being the reason for the deliberate shift in position.

“So, Mr. Optimist, what did you have in mind, exactly?”

Clint let his foot tap on the floor, the combat boot likely making scuffmarks on the kitchen tile. For all that Clint embraced casual wear otherwise, Bruce had never seen him without some kind of boots. The movement jostled Bruce slightly, making him cling a little tighter. “Actually, I was thinking I’d take you to a movie.”

Bruce leaned back, peering at Clint over the tops of his glasses. “A movie?” That response was light years away from the racy suggestions that Bruce had been expecting.

“Well, yeah. You don’t want to? I figured, when’s the last time we got any time to ourselves, just the two of us?”

“Oh. No, it’s not that.” It wasn’t that at all, actually. Bruce just hadn’t thought they were headed in that direction. Thoughts of getting Clint alone were geared more towards the bedroom variety. After all, there’d been no prior indication that Clint was interested in things taking a turn towards relationship territory. All they had done was kiss so far, sure, but Bruce had guessed that was leading to Clint eventually getting frustrated and pulling him into a bedroom to throw him down on a mattress, not offer to take him to the cinema.

“You don’t like the movies? I mean, if you’d rather just hang out here...”

“No, no. It sounds nice, actually.” Bruce kissed him again, a firm kiss with a little bit of tongue, just to show that he was being serious. Clint returned the kiss enthusiastically, cupping the back of Bruce’s head tenderly until they parted.

“Great.” Clint lifted them both up off the chair gracefully, a hand lingering at the small of Bruce’s back for the smallest of moments. “I’ll meet you downstairs. You just wait. I’ll buy you the biggest soda and popcorn they have.”

Bruce grinned. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”


End file.
